Bane of Mirkwood
by HoVis
Summary: Whilst in Lorien, Legolas receives some terrible news... his father is dead and he must take his place as king of Mirkwood. I am totally messing with the fellowship here. Please R & R!
1. Default Chapter

A/N: O.K, I'm obsessed with Elves. Paricularly Legolas, Haldir and Celeborn. But for all you other elf-maniacs out there... hope you like it.  
  
Disclaimer: Well, all I can say is that if Tolkien wrote fanfic, I'm sure he'd be able to think up a better pen-name than "HoVis".  
  
Legolas smiled contentedly as he swung from branch and bough, completely at home among the leaves of Lorien. "Mae Govann, Legolas!" A voice called from beneath him, and he glanced down to see Haldir, March Warden of Lorien and one of his oldest friend's, standing at the base of the tree he was in. "Mae Govann, Haldir!" He replied cheerfully, as he lightly dropped to the forest floor. "What brings you here? I thought you were on duty?" Legolas chided his friend slightly mockingly. "I am. I was sent to find you. The Lord wishes to speak with you." Haldir delivered his message with the same air he did anything - with confidence and an incredibly annoying smugness which his friends, rather than allowing it to annoy them, simply took it as one of his more... endearing features. Legolas eyes widened with shock at this news. True, he was an elf, and a member of the fellowship, but why the Lord Celeborn would wish to speak to him, alone, was beyond him. "Very well. Lead on then!" Though mystified, he faced this confusion with the same way he faced much of his life - with a cheerful heart and a ready smile. * Celeborn rose, in greeting, as Legolas reached the top of the ladder leading to the royal flet. He wore his customary gown of simple grey fabric, yet still managed to look regal and wise, as was becoming of his age and experience. "Legolas. It is good to meet you at last, son of Thranduil." He smiled at the much younger wood elf, trying to put off the moment he would have to break his terrible news to the young archer. "Lord Celeborn." Legolas replied simply, deciding not to voice his confusion as to why he had been called before the Lord, hopeful that it would all be explained with time. "Please, sit down." Celeborn politely indicated the chair to his right. Legolas nodded, but was unable to hold back his curiosity any longer. "Lord Celeborn... why have you called me here?" Celeborn's sighed slightly - he had hoped he would be able to get to know the young Mirkwood elf before they had to move onto... graver matters. "It is about your father, King Thranduil." Legolas looked Celeborn in the eye, an unhappy suspicion already forming in his mind. "What?" he managed to force out, his heart quickening slightly. "He is dead." Celeborn said simply, unable to think of any words which could soften the blow, or ease Legolas' surely terrible pain. "How?" Legolas' voice was small, and frightened. "Orcs attacked Mirkwood five days ago. Your father led the force which tried to repel them... they succeeded, but Thranduil was badly injured. He died the day after the attack." Legolas' looked lost, like a young child who's found himself in a world far to big and frightening for him. "And what has become of... of my people?" Celeborn knew what Legolas meant - he was taking the burden of the rule of Mirkwood upon himself voluntarily, rather than even attempting to fight in vain against his destiny. "The band of soldiers managed to repel the forces of Mordor, but many died. There are few soldiers left now to defend the borders of the city. If they are attacked again, those unable to fight will be at the mercy of Sauron." "And that is hardly a happy thought." Legolas sighed, hardly believing that only an hour ago he had been roaming the treetops, happy without a care in the world. "I've got to return, haven't I? I've got to take the throne?" Legolas asked rhetorically, seeking comfort from one who knew too well the pressures of ruling a kingdom. "I know it is difficult, Legolas. But for all the hardships... it is rewarding. More so than you can ever imagine." Celeborn said honestly, but Legolas simply turned away, his golden hair hiding his face and eyes. "How do you know of my father's death, anyway? Mirkwood is five hundred leagues from here." The younger elf asked eventually, as the silence became too much for him. "Messengers, obviously. They knew that you would probably be coming this way. Also... they sent this." Celeborn brought something out from his robes, and handed it to Legolas. "My father's crown." Legolas' voice was dripping with bitterness. It was a simple gold band, with three leaves, one silver, one gold, and one mithril, all inset with semi-precious green stone at the front. Legolas stared at it for a full minute, and Celeborn allowed him this time, knowing full well how daunting the burden of leadership could be when first faced with it. "Well, there seems little point putting off the inevitable." Legolas sighed, and slowly, hesitantly, lifted the crown to his head. Closing his eyes as though steeling himself, he placed it on his head, breathing heavily as he did so. "I've done the right thing, haven't I?" Legolas begged for reassurance as he opened his eyes. "Yes. Now comes the harder part - carrying out that which you just swore to do, to leave the fellowship and to protect your people." "I know." Legolas murmured, deep in thought. "I know." * 


	2. Decisions among Kings and Lords

A/N: Ok, I am totally messing with the whole of Tolkien's world here, having killed dear old Thranduil off, and putting... well, someone else in Legolas' place in the fellowship, but I had fun writing it, and I hope you do reading it! (Lots of major angst in the chapter after this one for Haldir, I'm hoping!) Anyway, just a little note to my reviewer:  
  
Yes, I know I'm terrible at formatting, but just have a look at your copy of Lord of the Rings - Tolkien didn't format it like this, did he? But I've obliged in this chapter to change it to the way you're suggesting, as I know its easier on the eye when reading form a computer screen. And hey, I'm glad you liked the description of the crown - it is a fairly important thing, as it symbolises the burden Legolas is having to undertake. Anyway... hope you like this chappie!  
  
Oh, yes, and the disclaimer - nothing belongs to me. Can I get on with the story now?!  
  
"What do you mean, you've got to leave the fellowship? Why, Legolas?" Aragorn was upset, and understandably so. Legolas had just told him that he was returning to Mirkwood.  
  
"Aragorn, calm down." Aragorn shook his head - he couldn't understand the change that had suddenly come over his friend. Legolas no longer carried himself lightly, and cheerfully, but in a manner more... regal? He was acting more like the royalty he was, rather than the carefree young elf Aragorn loved and cared for so much. Legolas sighed.  
  
"Aragorn, its my father. He's... dead." Legolas felt a wrench of pain as he said this, as though saying these words out loud somehow sealed his father's fate. Aragorn paused his relentless pacing for a minute, and stared at Legolas, agape.  
  
"What?"  
  
"He's dead. I must return to Mirkwood... to assume the throne."  
  
"Oh, Legolas." Aragorn moved towards his friend, to offer comfort, to show him he was there for him, but Legolas simply shrugged away.  
  
"I'm fine, really." He lied, glancing around the beautiful clearing they were in. He concentrated on the trees, and the many different hues of gold and green the leaves had taken on. Anything to put off the moment he would have to look Aragorn in the eye.  
  
"Legolas! I know you to well for that to work." Aragorn chided, and he grabbed Legolas' shoulder's, forcing his friend to look him in the eye.  
  
"Legolas." He repeated, quieter now. The pain and confusion in his friend's eyes nearly broke his heart.  
  
"It's alright. I understand." He murmured comfortingly in the Sindarin tongue, and Legolas gave him a small, grateful smile. "Thankyou, Estel." * "Who will be our eyes and ears now, without Legolas? The elf's heightened senses are invaluable!" Boromir of Gondor was taking the news of Legolas' departure slightly worse than Aragorn.  
  
"That is why we have asked Haldir Moonglade, the archer who led you into the woods, to take Price Legolas' place." In his turn Gimli now became annoyed.  
  
"That treacherous, arrogant excuse for an elf! We would be better off with no help at all." Celeborn's lips quirked slightly at this. He, along with most of the elves in Lorien, had heard about the dwarf's slur on the March Warden Haldir.  
  
"His reaction was something similar when posed with the idea of travelling along side you, Gimli son of Gloin. But, can you not lay your grudge aside, for the sake of us all? Haldir is a fine archer and warden, the best in Lorien. And I, and the Lady Galadriel, trust him. Is that not enough for you?" Gimli shuffled uncomfortably in his place, looking anywhere but at Celeborn.  
  
"Aye." He muttered quietly, but his face spoke a different story. Celeborn turned then to Aragorn, who had been watching the whole exchange with a thoughtful look on his face.  
  
"You are content with this arrangement, Ellesar?" Aragorn nodded, still looking as though he was in a different place entirely.  
  
"Very well. You leave a week from today." * "You're going to Mordor? Are you mad?" Ellena, the partner and wife of Haldir, incredulously summed up all he had just told her - that he would be leaving with the fellowship in a week's time. Their ten-year old daughter, Jenkalrondo, or Jenna for short, looked on silently.  
  
"It's not as bad as it sounds!" Haldir tried to comfort his near-hysterical wife.  
  
"But it is! You may never return!"  
  
"Yes, but - "  
  
"Is it true, Ada? You are coming back, aren't you?" His daughter's stricken voice cut him off, and as he went to embrace her he shot Ellena a look which said, "Now look what you've done".  
  
"Of course I'm coming back." Haldir told Jenna soothingly,  
  
"Ada just has to go away for a bit, then he'll be back. I promise, Jenna. Do you understand?" Biting her lip, the child nodded in affirmation.  
  
"Maybe you should go and play with your friends, Jenna." Ellena shot her husband meaningful look.  
  
"Your father and I need to talk." Jenna, knowing exactly what this meant, nodded and quickly made her way to the ladder at the trunk of the huge tree their flet was on, and slowly, watching her parent's faces the whole time, disappeared down the tree.  
  
"Good." Haldir said when he was sure his daughter was out of earshot.  
  
"Now we are alone, perhaps we could discuss this like mature adults?" Ellena nodded slightly, and sat down on the floor, looking exhausted.  
  
"I'm just so frightened of losing you, Haldir." She murmured in a small voice, and Haldir knelt at her side, a small, sad smile on his face.  
  
"I will come back. I swear it to you." Ellena gave him a sidelong glance, eyebrows raised.  
  
"I'm not Jenna, you know. I'm not a child who'll believe anything that's thrown at her."  
  
"I know you're not. But believe this... I love you, and I swear not to leave you alone in the world. Just as I swore on our wedding day, remember? I renew those vows to you today. I will return. I swear it." Slowly, Ellena nodded, though her eyes still seemed full of unwept tears.  
  
"Do your parent's know? Have you told Rumil, or Orophin?"  
  
"No. I suppose I must go now, and prepare... we leave in a week's time. You will be alright?" Haldir stood, his voice filled with concern as he picked up his bow, and his quiver-full of delicate-but-deadly arrows.  
  
"I'll be fine." She assured him, in a mock tone of exasperation. Haldir nodded briefly, then disappeared lightly down the ladder.  
  
* "Well lad, I hope you will accept my apology for the... harsh words spoken at our meeting." Gimli awkwardly told Haldir, his nerves not helped one bit by the fact that Haldir was at least a foot taller than he. Haldir gave him a slightly amazed look, before nodding hesitantly, looking as awkward as the dwarf in front of him.  
  
"Very well... and I hope you will accept my apology... I do hope I haven't left you with a wrong first impression of the elves of Lorien." Haldir gave the dwarf a rare smile.  
  
"Aye, well, lets forget about that now, eh, lad? We got an important job to do." Haldir sighed at the dwarf's obvious enthusiasm for the quest, an enthusiasm not shared by he, who would much rather have stayed in Lothlorien with his wife and daughter.  
  
"To tell you the truth, I would rather be doing anything but going on this quest. A quest from which none of us may ever return." His voice was filled with bitterness and regret. Gimli eyed him thoughtfully.  
  
"Frightened?"  
  
"Understand, a few years ago, I would have relished such a chance. But now I have a loving wife, and a daughter..." His voice trailed off uncertainly, and Gimli smiled kindly.  
  
"Aye, lad, I think I can understand that. Now, let's get down to this packing, or we'll never be done."  
  
*  
  
Night had come to Caras Galadhon, the moon and stars shining brightly in the stars. The woods were sleeping, and barely a sound broke the beautifully calm silence. But there was one who was not asleep, who, despite his best efforts, could not slow his thoughts down enough to enter the calm of dreams. Celeborn Silvertree circled the Mirror at the center of the forest, his ayes glinting in the dim moonlight. Though few new it, he, just like his wife, had the power to wield the Mirror to his own purposes - to see what it prophesied, to look upon its wisdom's. He wore nothing but a light robe wrapped around his body, and a small dagger hung from his waist. In his hands was a simple jug of water, made just of silver, no sign of marking or engraving upon it visible to even the eyes of an elf. Slowly, almost reverently, Celeborn poured the shimmering water into the stone basin which housed the mirror. At first, he could see nothing but ordinary water, reflecting the moon and starlight, but then, very slowly, it began to shimmer and change. He saw the fellowship, trudging forlornly through the mines of Moria... things that were... He saw then Haldir, walking through the woods at night, a restless look of dread on his normally stoic face... things that are... Then he saw four boats, caught up in the flow of the river Anduin, and he was in one of them, rowing, and he saw a great battle, men and elves, Haldir was there, he realised, and so was he... and thing that have not yet come to pass. Head bowed, his heart heavy, he silently left the Mirrorglade, knowing too well what the morning would bring for him.  
  
* It was the last night before he left with the fellowship. Though all were awake in the living quarters of Haldir Moonglade and his family, not a whisper could be heard. Jenna was sitting on the floor, eyes wide as she regarded her parents. She couldn't understand what all this was about, didn't know why her mother was crying silent, bitter tears. Ada had said he was coming back, so why worry? He'd never lied to her before, so why should he start doing so now? She believed absolutely that he would return.  
  
* Ellena felt as though her heart was breaking. She knew that she could not bear it if Haldir never came back. She looked down at Jenna, who was looking quite oblivious as to what all the fuss was about. If only she could believe that Haldir would come back as easily as her daughter did.  
  
* Haldir, for the first time in his life, felt scared. Terrified, in fact. His brothers were right, having a family did change you more than anything else ever could. He was no longer just the March Warden of Lorien, he was husband of Ellena and father of Jenna. And he felt as though he had his priorities in completely the wrong order. What is he did never come back? Ellena would probably remarry... and Jenna, precious, beautiful Jenna, would grow up with another man as her father. And Haldir did not know if he could bear that thought at all.  
  
* It was time for him to leave. Legolas tried not to look as nervous as he felt as he saddled up the strong grey mare he was to ride back to Mirkwood. Worryingly for him, the weight of the crown upon his head no longer felt quite so heavy. It felt - almost - natural. He had a feeling Celeborn was right, about such a leadership being rewarding. But the leaving of his old life to that new one, now that was not so pleasant. But then again, at least Aragorn, being a son of Kings himself, had some idea of what he was going through. And he worried what other knock-on effects his leaving the fellowship was having. Though he knew and trusted that Haldir would do the job of protecting the ring extremely well, he wasn't so sure if he was the best for the job - Haldir, after all, had a family, and didn't want to leave Lorien, whereas some of the younger elves in the woods would have done anything for such an adventure.  
  
"My lord?" The concerned voice of Thranil, his escort, broke into his troubled thoughts. Legolas turned to look into his old friend's eyes, slightly exasperated.  
  
"I've told you, Thranil, call me Legolas. You used to." There was a hint of accusation in Legolas' voice, mixed with annoyance. Thranil inclined his head slightly in a sign of respect for his king before replying.  
  
"But you were no King of Mirkwood then, my lord." Legolas sighed. Things, it seemed, had changed greatly since his leaving Mirkwood barely five months ago.  
  
* A/N: So? Whaddaya think? I know its a bit confusing at the mo', but I'll do my best to explain all in the second chappie. Please r & r!  
  
Please? 


End file.
